Goody Two Shoes (22 page)

“Good afternoon my dear,” Jonathon’s voice booms beside me.

“Good afternoon, Jonathon,” I say nervously, trying to repeat his cool composure.

“Are you ready to begin?”

I nod my head slowly.

“Today we’re going to remind you of the sensations you had years ago.  The blindfold will guard our assistant’s privacy, and you will not remove it under any circumstances do you understand me?”

Again I nod.

“Very well, when you’re finished, wait for Patty to come and take the blindfold off, then dress and come downstairs to the library if you will.”

I don’t hear the door shut behind them because of the manly form that slides over me on the bed.  At first he stumbles clumsily, as if he’s blindfolded, too.  But he soon finds his way.  Skilled hands begin a slow rhythmic massage of my bare breasts; suddenly pleasure seeps into my veins through his warm touch.  Stunned by the sensual attack, I hold my breath and count, anything to push away the realization that another man is on top of me.  But Vagina is bitching for me to shut up and her twin is twirling.  My body’s revolting against old fashioned beliefs that’d been drilled into my brain by a much more delicate generation, yet as warm lips surround my nipples, my brain sinks into submission.  Vagina and Clitoris have become too strong to fight; I just don’t want to argue with them anymore.  Every touch is magnified a thousand times and the hardness against my thigh becomes my newest desire.

Imagining the body above me; tall, heavy-set, with hip bones eager to thrust inside me, I feel the clinching of my inner walls.  Somewhere in my head the line, “Resistance is futile” sounds, and I understand Picard’s plight, but my body is already steps ahead of my guilty conscience.  As his lips move down my stomach and tug on Clitoris, I know that I’m going to be saying goodbye to rational thinking for a while.  He pulls with his gentle lips, and then a slick tongue moves up and down my crevice.  I shiver with forbidden ecstasy as his thumb presses hard in small circles around my opening, “Oh!” I moan my first audible.

The man between my legs is breathing heavily; I can smell mint and bourbon on his breath as he slides over the sensitive skin of my stomach and comes face to face with me.  Finger’s that taste of me, are forced between my lips and I suck,
good Lord I’m a Tramp!

A thick arm moves down between us and pushes his hard member into me, I groan loudly as the size of it stretches me past fullness.  As a matter of fact it’s so large that it hurts and I protest by squirming with a sharp squeal.  Finger’s cross my lips tenderly to silence me.  Goose bumps form on my skin with his touch, and suddenly I want to know everything about this man.  Judging from the size of the cock, he’s an extremely well built man.  With my hands I roam his body frantically to discover my mystery lover.  But lips cover mine and his tongue slides into my mouth with a luscious kiss.  I quickly forget my examination and respond passionately.  As our kiss deepens, my need returns and he pinches my nipples tenderly.  Slowly he begins to move his hips again, and I adjust to his size as moves oh so slowly against every single erogenous spot inside me.  I’m lost in the sensations my body is sending me and blindness only compounds the pleasure.

I moan again, this time louder with more need, and my hips begin moving with the ache of satisfaction.  He doesn’t hold back in fear, he pounds into me giving me the rapturous orgasm I’m begging for.  My scream sounds foreign to me as my body floats into another dimension; each throb is like a wave rolling onto a deserted beach.  But like the tide, it soon retreats.  I’m left feeling weak and confused.  It’s been a long time.  I mean a long, long time since I’ve had an orgasm that powerful.  I feel almost giddy from the release.

But the man who’s given me this incredible experience is in no way finished.  I’m reminded by his hard cock still pulsing inside me.  Bless his heart, he’s practically trembling with need and I completely forgot him.  I lay still and push my hips upwards again, telling him to move forward.  And he wastes no time moving back and forth over me, only this time he puts his thumb over Clitoris as he thrusts.  The hardness against her tender spot renews my passion and we begin again.

As he pushes into me for the last time, I feel the fullness of his orgasm inside me.  If there is one last untouched spot within me, it’s now filled.  I rile against my orgasm and my back arches from the bed as I scream my pleasure into the empty room.  Suddenly amidst my screams of passion I hear a cough.  It rattles me back to reality, is someone else in the room with us?  Now that I think about it, I never heard anyone leave.  Oh hell!  Has someone been watching us?

The man slowly pulls from me, now I feel the chill of our sweat on my body as he exits with a tender kiss to my lips.  It’s Jonathon’s voice that fills the silent room, “Very good.  We’ll speak downstairs.  Patty will help you get dressed now.”

“Wait!  What?  It’s over?”  And I’m sad at the sudden departure.  What happened to the days of cuddling?

I feel Patty slipping beside me on the bed to remove the blindfold.  It’s knotted now from my head having thrashed about on the pillow, and she struggles with it a moment.  My relief from darkness leaves me still blinded somewhat, but I can see Jonathon walking out the door.  I look at Patty anxiously.  Had she watched the entire time?

She shakes her head quizzically, “No, I wasn’t here.  What do you think of the blindfold?”

I sit upright, juices run onto the thick sheets of the bed, “I could feel everything!  It was good, really good.”  I’m caught between wanting to tell her just how fricking amazing it was and shyness.

Patty’s face shows excitement, “I know right?  That’s how I felt, like my sexuality wasn’t gone at all, it was just covered up by bullshit!”

“Bullshit?” I mumble with a laugh.

“Bullshit my brain made up to ignore horniness.  The whole time Steve would be above me, before I mean, I was thinking about stupid crap like laundry lists of stuff I needed to do.  It’s like his face reminded me of chores or something.  Blindfolded you don’t know who’s on top of you so you can only imagine.  Pretty fun, really.  It could be Simmons, or Jonathon or Thor, you just have to imagine!  Let me guess, you had an orgasm like you haven’t had in years?”

I nod my head awkwardly.

Patty’s face shows excitement again, as if it’s my first date and she’s bursting with pride at my new dress.  Except I’m still naked.  I shift uncomfortably on the bed and she snaps back to reality.  “Oh all right ‘Miss Goody Two Shoes,’ get dressed and go on downstairs to talk to Jonathon!  But for the record, Tara?”

“Yeah?” I glance at her.

“You look more beautiful right this minute than I’ve seen you look in years.  Seriously girl, you’re a heartbreaker!”  She stands and walks flirtingly across the room to the door.  Before leaving she blows me an air kiss.  I mimic it and she closes the door, leaving me to my thoughts.

In front of the full length mirror in the room I realize that she’s right.  My hair is tousled around my head giving me that fully fucked look that movie stars pay for.  Even my skin seems to radiate a glow that oozes sensuality.  For the first time, in I don’t know how long, I’m pleased with the sight of my naked body in front of a mirror.  I wriggle into the outfit again, but this time I leave a few button’s down on the shirt.  I’m feeling pretty sexual right now, like a stray in heat.  I close my eyes and my own hands wander down my calves and thighs, feeling what he had when he touched me.  The moisture between my thighs is hot and luscious, as I slide into the red panties that’d been in my dresser drawer for the past four years.

The front door downstairs is closing as I walk down the hallway towards the staircase.  I can tell that a large statured man is leaving, but through the twilight I can’t make out any other features.  But my attention is directed towards the faint scent of Chanel Number 5 that surrounds me in the upstairs hallway.  I glance around to see the source but find no one.  Lifting my arm I even sniff to make sure the romantic scent isn’t coming from me.  My staple Estee Lauder mixed with sweat and sex are the only smells I find.

Back at home I find, Simmons’ car missing from the Garage.  What’s new?  On the blackboard at the bottom of the stairs I see a note, “At the Club.”  I know he means the golf club, but the words tickle me and I wonder if that’s not the same note Patty left for Steve at her house before going downtown to The Tramp Stamp Club.  But my ride home has only reminded me of my pursuit towards a new vehicle, and I rush to shower and throw on my Walmart bathrobe.  I’m anxious to cuddle now, and the only thing I have is the book Jonathon gave me.  I consider this man, Quinn Carmichael; after all he
could
be my mystery lover.  And I commiserate with him.  Simmons isn’t going to be too thrilled when he finds out what I’ve been up to.  Jonathon can make all the promises and guarantee’s he wants, I know my husband.  Loggerhead sea turtles and Red Woodpeckers interest him, not me.  If he needs a booty call he just goes to the golf club.

I have to tell you that the realization that Jonathon was trained by Elise, the woman I met at Dr. Kellars office, explains a great deal.  It explains why she felt the need to spank him.  Then again, not many women would refuse the opportunity to paddle Jonathon.  I certainly wouldn’t.  I gather my book and settle down for the night, cuddling.

Come sit down Quinn, I want to tell you what happens to a person who thinks they’re above the rules

Ellen Devereux

The Tramp Stamp Club

By Quinn Carmichael

The Rules

I’ve mentioned that driving downtown Charleston can be a revolutionary concept.  This time I’m running late and scramble to find a parking space near Jonathon’s exclusive address.  The only problem is that everyone else is trying to park in the same vicinity so they can stand on the Battery and soak in the afternoon sun.  I weave into the only open spot on the block and gather my change from the cup holder.  I’ll only be here an hour or two so I count enough quarters to pay the meter.  But as I push the first quarter into the machine it jams.  Again I try to force it into the slot but something else is stuck in there.  With a grumble I put my briefcase on the hood of my car and dig out a pen and a piece of paper.  I write, “Meter Broken,” in plain words and slap it beneath my windshield wiper.

I haven’t even pushed Jonathon’s doorbell when I notice motion behind me.  Turning around I see a short woman wearing a navy blue polyester outfit that has the all too familiar insignia of the Charleston Police on her arm.  She’s eyeing my car and seems to be jotting down my license plate number.

“Excuse me!  Excuse me Ma’am!” I race back down the tall concrete steps.

By the time I reach my vehicle it already has a yellow parking ticket placed directly over my note.  “I left a note.  The meter’s broken!”

She’s waddling off in her sharp blue cap but turns to face me, “Sir, if the meters broken then you need to find another place to park.”

Now life is full of unfairness, this I know.  “But I’m late, I’m only going to be an hour or so.”

She shakes her head as she strolls off in search of other dangerous criminals to ticket, her hips sway broadly but she yell’s over her shoulder, “Take all the time you want, but the fine goes up every time I walk by here.”

Ugh!  I snatch the ticket from my windshield and climb the stairs.  I ring the doorbell and Hawthorne is quick to answer.  “Hawthorne, I’m so sorry to be late!  Will you please tell Jonathon that I need to move my car and I’ll be back in a few minutes?”  I wave the yellow ticket in my hand as explanation.

Robbie Hawthorne shrugs, “Sure, but its Ellen you’re meeting with.  I’ll tell her.  Want to leave all that here while you move it?”  He motions towards the heavy briefcase slung across my shoulder.

“That’d be great.  Thanks man.”

“No problem,” And he accepts my load.  But as I turn back around the same Police woman is standing over my windshield again.

“Are you writing me another ticket?” I race back down to my car.

“Sir, you removed the previous ticket, accepting responsibility for it.  Yet you did not immediately move your vehicle as instructed.  I’m giving you another ticket.”

What?  “I wasn’t even out of sight!  All I did was climb the steps and tell them I’d be late!”

“Sorry, Sir, I don’t make the rules,” and she slaps the new ticket beneath my windshield.

“But…”

“Sorry, Sir,” But I know she isn’t.  I can see the evil grin beneath her cap.  I’ll never understand how some people can be so utterly petty.

After driving around for an additional ten minutes, I finally park my car and present myself to Ellen.  “Ellen, I’m so sorry to be late!”

She smiles graciously from her perch on the sofa.  Today she’s wearing a deep orange dress, no doubt created by some magnificent Italian or Swede.  I can’t help but notice her breasts again, so plump and perky.  “Come sit down Quinn, I want to tell you what happens to a person who thinks they’re above the rules.”